


Stay

by mythtress



Category: Borderlands (Video Games)
Genre: Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Poor Life Choices, Short One Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-16
Updated: 2019-01-16
Packaged: 2019-10-01 03:05:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 485
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17236160
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mythtress/pseuds/mythtress
Summary: Tim makes a poor choice but he can't really help himself.





	Stay

After getting back from the hospital Jack had huddled beneath a blanket, becoming a mass of Hyperion yellow. Timothy had remained by his ridiculously large bedside, keeping occupied with fielding in queries and requests. He was getting the hang of Jack's style of corporate double talk, if he did say so himself. He sent off another snappy reply to the build team.

They were getting pushy after not seeing the lead on the Helios project for so long; especially after the Dahl incident. Timothy glanced at the heap as it shifted, revealing Jack to still be alive. The body double’s eyes moved from Jack to the mask that was lying on the bedside table. With it's hollow eyes and metallic clasps, it wasn't so much a replica as a replacement.

Timothy feared he'd be made to wear it. He knew it was coming. Going back under the knife. He wasn't sure of the lengths Jack would go to keep him a perfect physical replica. It wasn't something he wanted to dwell on.

He sighed, easing himself up from the chair he'd been in for the better part of the day. As he turned to leave his wrist was caught, vice like fingers tightening to the point of pain. It was Jack's hand, Tim's own now; but Jack seemed incapable of using a gentle touch. It was all or nothing with him.

“Stay.” Said so softly Tim almost didn't catch it. A single word, not stated as a command but a plea.

Timothy felt an intense rage for an instant. This man, whose face he had been made to wear, was begging; as much as Jack ever would beg. As quickly as it came the anger dissipated into pity.

Jack was alone. True he was alone by his own actions. Alone, suffering, and now asking Tim to stay with him.

If Timothy had been Jack he would have walked out, sneering about a display of weakness but Timothy wasn't Jack. So he toed off his boots and crawled into the space made for him under the blanket.

Jack clung to him like a life preserver, a little to tight for comfort, and buried his face into the body doubles chest. Timothy could feel the heat of the scar through his shirt. He brushed a hand through the man's sweat soaked hair, pushing the mess away from his forehead. Timothy's other hand moved to Jack's back to rub soothing circles, but he found the skin cold, like death.

Whatever the Mark had done to Jack, it was still doing; it wasn't letting go. He rocked them both gently. Jack, once so overpowering to him had been reduced to a mere child in his arms. He didn't know if this would get better, if things would ever return to how they had been. But Timothy did know one thing, and he whispered in the darkened room.

“I'll stay.”


End file.
